


Honey off a Thorn

by Lilachigh



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 08:07:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4255860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilachigh/pseuds/Lilachigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season Six - half way through "All the Way" and Buffy is wondering about her mixed emotions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey off a Thorn

Honey off a Thorn by Lilachigh

Season Six. A story set in the middle of All The Way

 

WHY DID I FOLLOW HIM BACK TO HIS CRYPT?

There, that is the heading I have written in my notebook. And underlined it several times in different colours so it looks pretty. Not that looking pretty is going to answer the question, but I reckoned that for once, if I wrote down the question, perhaps the answer would come to me.

I’ve never been much good at writing things, making lists, keeping journals. I know Dawn did, before she found out she was the Key, blahdi blahdi di blah - hey, I wonder if that is the right way to spell that? But tonight - well, it’s tomorrow really - now the house is quiet, I need to see things in black and white in print. Or, to be accurate, nice green ink and my hand-writing.

Dawn’s slammed her door shut. She isn’t talking after the mega bust up over her escapade with the young vamp boy in the woods. Still, Giles is dealing with that, so that’s OK. And anyway, what could I honestly say that she would understand? I’m the Slayer so it’s different for me. I have a - well, a working relationship with our bumpy faced enemies.

No, Dawn isn’t my problem. I’m my problem! Since I’ve been back from being dead, I don’t feel I’m really here at all. Sometimes if I pass a mirror, or a dark shop window, I’m quite surprised when I see my reflection looking back.

I seem all here. Quite normal and solid. Two arms, legs, hair, nose, although I do seem to have lost my bust somewhere between heaven and here which is something I would so complain about if I knew which powers to write to! I stay awake a lot, because when I shut my eyes, I’m back in that coffin. So I lie here in the dark, wondering, thinking and it all comes down to the same question. Why, exactly, did they bring me back?

No one’s been able to tell me. Oh, I’ve had all the ‘we missed you’ and ‘thought you were in some hell dimension’ and ‘look how clever I’ve been, see what I can do,’ conversations, but no real, honest to God reason. I mean, just missing someone isn’t enough, is it? Dawn missed Mom and tried to bring her back. You can’t do it just because you want someone so much it hurts.

But my friends did. So, they must have a reason. Strangely enough, I sometimes wish Spike had been in on the scheme, because then he would have been able to tell me the truth. But he and Dawn were out of the loop, so no good asking.

But even with all these thoughts in my head, I still don’t feel much of anything. Can’t get angry with Willow; I don’t hate Tara or Anya. Jeez, I couldn’t even get really excited about Xander and Miss Tell-it-as-it-Is getting engaged tonight. I know I must have made all the right noises, because no one looked upset, but that’s all they were - noises.

I didn’t even feel particularly upset when I saw Angel. I told everyone it was intense, but it’s just a word that sounded good at the time. The only sensation I had was similar to when you think you are going to take a big step down off a ladder and find the floor is, in fact, only a couple of inches away and you come down to reality with a sort of thud

The only time I even feel anything is when a certain irritating vampire looks at me.   
And it’s driving me crazy. I have to understand why.

Right, I’ll do this properly. I’ll jot down the facts and see if they make sense. No frills, no reasons, no explanations, just the facts.

1] Spoke to Spike in basement of Magic Shop. He’d come through the tunnels to steal things.

2} He asked me to patrol and, just for a second, I thought he was asking me something completely different. Well, rough and tumble could mean - No, that is not a fact, that’s a digression.

3) Went back upstairs to help Giles pack as Magic Box going mad with Hallowe’en customers.

4} Got bored.

No, that isn’t true, not a fact. Didn’t get bored. Felt - yes, in the middle of all those people, with all my friends around me - I felt lonely.

5} Decided to continue conversation I’d been having with Spike because although difficult - and here is where the facts get fuzzy. Although being with him is difficult sometimes, I’m never lonely when he‘s there. Which is weird but it’s a fact - a big fact, in fact! So I’ll write it in red. There!

6} Made excuse to Giles that we’d run out of shiny pink crystals. Went down to basement, picked up a flashlight and headed off through the tunnels, towards Spike’s crypt. 

It’s really weird that practically the whole of Sunnydale is connected by underground passageways. I mean, it makes car travel redundant. If there was only a proper map - but there isn’t. So how did I know which way to go? That’s weird, too. Every time I reached a junction with tunnels branching off darkly in different directions, I seemed to instinctively understand which one to take.

Well, of course, I knew that I had to go south, but it was as if some sort of magnet was pulling at me. A Spike shaped magnet, I suppose. One that was drawing me towards it so we would collide and then -

Sorry, journal, that heavy crossing out was to delete a very silly sentence that crept from my stomach - well, a bit lower than my stomach, if I’m honest! - to my brain and then on to the paper. But, hey, I’ve scratched it out, so no biggie. As if I’d ever do that with Spike, of all people. The thought of him touching me - there - well, disgusting! Never ever happen.

So, back to journal - no, there aren’t any more points.

I think I’d almost reached the crypt when there was a dark movement in front of me and Spike stepped out from behind a boulder. I can remember the conversation - I wish I couldn’t. I just want to understand....

“Slayer? Thought you’d decided against patrolling tonight?”

“I did.” I’d turned off the flashlight. Things seemed easier in the dark. He leant against the tunnel wall, lit a cigarette and for a second, his face was illuminated by the flare from his lighter. The smell of the smoke hung in the tunnel air and although it made me feel queasy, in a dreadful sick way, it also gave me the oddest feeling.

You know when you've been away from home for weeks and you open the front door and the air of your own home surrounds you? It might be stuffy and even a bit smelly - especially if you’ve left flowers in a vase and the waters gone yuck, but it’s still your home and it welcomes you.

A bit like Mole in The Wind in the Willows, which I remember reading to Dawn when she was little - although, of course, I didn’t really read to her. Key and all that! There’s the scene where Mole and Rattie are out in the snow and Mole scents his home in the wind and has to go to find it.

In the dark, the smoke, the smell of Spike’s leather duster and the metal tang of blood and whisky soothed my senses. For the first time for ages I could feel muscles in my neck relax and that Moley part of my brain said “Home.”

“So, you’re wandering through the tunnels for fun? Not the brightest thing you’ve ever done, pet. All sorts of nasties down here.”

“What? Ones I can’t take?”

The end of the cigarette glowed redly in the dark. “No.” He sounded patient. Most unSpike like. I wished he’d say something rude and sarcastic. I can deal with rude and sarcastic.

“I reckon you can take most things in your stride, Slayer. But you’re not dressed for patrolling.” He gestured in the dark with his cigarette and the brilliant red light jabbed towards my skimpy top and dark skirt and I flinched back, out of its way.

I remember shivering. I always forget how cold it gets underground. That was the only reason I was shivering, not because I’d thought he was going to touch my bare arm.  
There was a swirling, rustling in front of me and something large and black and soft settled over my shoulders. I knew it was his leather coat; could smell him on it, mixed with the added ingredients of blood and whisky.

“Can’t have you freezing to death, pet. Li’l Bit will have my guts for garters if you go down with a cold on Hallowe’en.”

“That’s a charming thought, Spike.” I started to say, jokingly, then realised that the vampire was probably being accurate, not literal, so shut up quickly.

“Why don’t vampires celebrate Hallowe’en?” I asked when the comfortable silence had gone on long enough.

I felt, rather than saw, him shrug. “Evening off, pet. Don’t forget, we don’t make nearly as big a thing of it in Europe as you do over here.”

“What, no trick or treat?”

“Kids might do a bit nowadays but in England it was always a time for staying indoors. November 1st is All Saints Day, so on the eve of that, the story goes that the spirits of all who died during the year come back in search of living bodies to inhabit. So people dressed up in hideous costumes to frighten away the spirits. Vamps and demons just can’t be bothered to go round in soddin’ funny hats, wailing at each other. So we put our feet up and tuck into a nice snack of warm blood and a few cheese and onion crisps – or chips as you Colonials would say!”

I tried hard to blank out that particular picture. What he’d just said had struck another chord in my head. “So I might have come back tonight - even if Willow hadn’t magiced me home?”

This time there was no mistaking his movements. A cold hard hand reached under the leather duster and gripped my shoulder. “No! You weren’t mortally dead, Buffy. You know that. You were in some heavenly dimension, OK, but not mortally dead. You weren’t going to come back as a spook tonight. Bloody hell, Slayer, is that what’s been biting you all day?”

I pushed his hand away and pulling off the coat, tossed it back to him. “Nothing has been biting me, Spike,” I said. “It was just - a thought.“

“Why don’t you talk to the Scoobies and tell them what’s bothering you?”

“Oh yes, that’s going to be a fun conversation - not! Oh Will, by the way, you dragged me out of heaven, but don’t worry about it! No big deal. Life back here in Sunnydale is just as peachy. Have you any idea how much I want to say that sometimes? To see their faces? And can you imagine how bad that makes me feel? I won’t hurt them like that.”

I could hear the anger and loss making my voice tremble but in an odd way it was an enormous relief to speak about it. Is it weird that Spike is the one person I can talk to? The one person who kind of understands what I’ve been through.

“There’s a saying, Buffy, can’t remember who by, that life is like licking honey off a thorn. At least you’ve got your life back again.”

I laughed and even to my ears I sounded bitter. “Oh I’m licking the thorn all right, Spike. Just don’t taste much honey at present.”

And I felt my cheeks flare with a hot colour I was so pleased he couldn’t see because another completely ridiculous picture had flashed into my mind - of me licking and nibbling and -

“So - ” His voice sounded strangely tired coming out of the darkness and I dragged my roaring thoughts back into line. “If you blame them for bringing you back, do you still blame me for not saving Dawn on the rotten tower?”

“What? Spike, I never blamed you for that. You tried, but I had to jump. There was no other way.”

For a second or two, I felt a physical jolt run through me, the blanket of black depression lift a little. Had he really been worrying about that all this time? It was strange; but I realised it had been ages since I’d thought about someone else’s feelings.

I heard Spike shrugging into his coat. “What else did you want from me, Slayer?” he said. 

“What? Nothing! I never wanted anything from you Spike. I was just - trying to avoid the mayhem back at the Magic Box. And now I’d better get back and do my share of packing. The madness that is Hallowe’en has arrived in Sunnydale and nothing and no one can save me from the fun and games.”

I turned and left him without even saying goodbye and headed back to the Magic Box, to Giles and Willow, to Xander and Anya’s amazing announcement, to all the problems with Dawn and the vampire boyfriend.

Spike never said a word about our earlier meeting when I needed his help later that night. And I’m sitting here now, writing all this down, still trying to work out why I wanted to speak to him so much, why when I’m with him the pain and the loneliness go away.

And why, as I walked away from him, back up the tunnel, I clearly heard him say, “I could save you from everything, Slayer. If you’d let me.”

 

the end


End file.
